#bf!gojo satoru

[pupkashi]

hiii can you do reader falling asleep at desk while studying and Gojo finds them?

hi hi !! i hope you enjoy this little sweet piece <3

it’s 4:38 am when satoru walks through the front door of your shared home, slipping his shoes off quietly and gently setting his keys down. he listens for any movement as he puts his jacket on the coat rack and makes his way into the kitchen.

satoru smiles when he sees some food you’d left out for him, heating it up and eating it quickly. he figures your asleep already, taking the liberty to shower and change in the restroom downstairs rather than the one in the bedroom so as not to wake you.

he expects to be greeted by a dark bedroom, with you asleep in bed or at least groggily greeting him as you sit up with the blanket drowning you. he doesn’t expect to see the light spilling from under the door, making him frown when he opens the door and sees the empty bed.

one look to his left answers all his questions.

on your laptop was a lecture video, still playing, notes sprawled around you as you peacefully slept against your now locked tablet.

he cringes a bit at the position your were in, knowing for a fact you’d have neck pain in the morning. satoru pauses your lecture video, starting it over and putting your laptop to charge.

“sweetheart, cmon let’s get to bed” he whispers, feathery touches gently bringing you back from your unconscious state. he’s quick to scoop you into his arms, carrying you as if you were feather light and placing you on the bed.

you open your eyes slowly, realizing you were no longer at your desk as you watch satoru put your things away for you, neatly organizing your paper notes and plugging in your tablet, switching your desk lamp off.

when he turns, he’s greeted by you sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “good morning sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your forehead and coaxing you up, “cmon let’s get your contacts out and your teeth brushed.”

“what time is it?” you mumble, not bothering to fight him on studying more, seeing as though your battle with sleep had been lost long ago.

“almost 5 i think” he says, handing you your toothbrush as he grabs his. “thought you said you were gonna sleep early today” you don’t even need to look at him to see the pout on his glossy lips.

“was gonna, but then i realized it was a lot more material than i anticipated and ended up staying up” you mumble, “well i guess not staying up since i fell asleep.” satoru giggles softly, holding your hair as you rinse your mouth.

the two of you are in bed in the matter of minutes, satoru now in only boxers and you in one of his white t shirts that fits way too big on you. you let your head rest in the crook on his neck, hand finding its way around to the nape of his hair, messing with the damp snowy hair that found purchase there.

satoru all but purrs at the feeling, letting his hand run softly up and down your back. “you need to take more breaks, sweets” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. you only hum in response, not bothering to open your eyes.

“shouldn’t be sleeping at your desk when there’s a bed as good as this one waiting for you” he’s looking down at you with a pout, and you can feel his gaze on you.

after a couple seconds you maneuver yourself to look at your lover, “how about when you work late I’ll try and be in bed by three, so you don’t have to worry your pretty head over me” you reason, sweetening him up by pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“three is so late” he huffs, letting himself indulge in your kisses. you roll your eyes at him, sitting up and straddling his hips to better kiss his cheeks.

“would you rather it be four?” you ask, making him quickly shake his head. “three it is then,” satoru catches your lips in his, smiling as you almost immediately kiss him back.

the two of you break away when you’ve ran out of breath, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly. “alright time to go to sleep” he mumbles, kissing your lips gently once more before you’re rolling off him and laying on your side, curling into him.

satoru is quick to get comfortable next to you, letting himself get as close to you as possible before his eyes are slowly closing.

the sun will rise in a short number of minutes, and it’s warm rays will kiss the two of you. but for now you snuggle into satoru’s warm embrace, smiling as his strong biceps work as your makeshift pillow, the smell of his body wash filling your nose.

for now you listen to him tell you about his day rather than recorded lectures, drawing circles subconsciously on his chest rather than in your notebook as you slowly doze off the steady beating of his heart.

masterlist

[sttoru]

thinking of dating older bf!satoru. . .and i’m talking like you’re in your early 20’s and he’s in his early 30’s.

the way he texts at the start of your blooming relationship is super attractive somehow. like the most simplest of texts would get you weak in the knees. texts like ‘good morning, sweetheart.’ // ‘how’s my pretty girl doing?’ // ‘there’s my gorgeous girl.’ // ‘rise ‘n shine, sleepyhead.’ // ‘it’s okay, baby. i understand.’ // ‘you never fail to amaze me, huh.’

or when you’re being very risky via your messenger app, older bf!satoru is definitely the type to say ‘careful.’ // ‘you’re gonna get me in trouble.’ // ‘you’re being quite brave today, doll. // ‘aww, how adorable of you.’ // ‘mhm? that so?’

also . . . gives you money out of the blue. randomly. doesn’t question it at all. or sends expensive gifts your way too without you asking. older bf!satoru would text you stuff like; ‘here’s some money, gorgeous. want you to spoil yourself for me today, okay?’ // ‘just a little gift.’ // ‘you deserve a break, baby. here you go.’ // ‘got you something small.’

and then you check your bank account and it’s an easy $200 / $500 / $800 ++ added by him. or when he’s sending gifts to your apartment, it’s gonna be one of them reaaaaal expensive ones. probably ones you eyed before or had mention you liked very briefly, but didn’t get it because of the price.

definitely also the type to try and accommodate or match his texting style to yours as the months go by. kinda to match your energy. perhaps fails horribly at it, but it’s cute to see him try.

[choso-is-bbg]

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐔𝐘...

gojo's the type of guy who always presses your face in his chest everytime he hugs you. without miss, every single time, he suffocates you subtly and you can hear his chest rumbling as he chuckles at you and kisses the top of your head.

gojo's the type of guy takes unflattering pictures of you when he catches you off guard. he has pictures of you mid sneeze, pictures of you sleeping with your mouth open and drool dribbling down your chin, unflattering angles. he has them all, all for himself to gawk at when you're not with him.

gojo's the type of guy who snatches a piece of your food everytime you go out to eat with him or if you order takeout with him. even if it's a home cooked meal, he always snatched something off your plate. justifying his actions by claiming that you're food could be poisoned and he's just looking out for you.

gojo's the type of guy who calls you all the cringy nicknames he knows. baby? babe? sweetheart? darling? forget all of those. he's calling you his pookie bear, schnookums, schmoopsie, all of those cringe unique ones just to annoy you

gojo's the type of guy who bite your nose at random times when you're alone. you could comfortably cuddling with him telling you about your day and he just decides to lean in and take a bite of your nose just because he can

gojo's the type of guy who laughs at you when something embarrassing happens to you. you fall down on the slippery stairs or floor, he's quick to laugh before helping you up. you stutter while talking to him, you're never living that down. he corrects you with the wrong pronunciation everytime you correct yourself.

gojo's the type of guy who offers you his sweets everytime he buys some. he wouldn't normally share his kikufuku with just anyone, but you're special, he wants yo share everything with you.

gojo's the type of guy who plays music on the speaker and pulls you up to dance with him. only in your pyjamas as you sway from the living to the kitchen and back with just his hand on your waist and his other holding your other hand and laughing.

gojo's the type of guy who watches all your favourite shows with you, even if they're corny and don't make any sense, he's there to watch all the episodes with you. it's the least he can do since you put up with his shit 24/7.

gojo's the type of guy who takes you out on fancy dates when he can. getting you a cute dress before all this, making sure they have you're favourite foods and drinks and spoiling you rotten. he's happy he finally has something to share his money with.

[isolabellz]

in another life

[storusangel]

bf!satoru is the best!!! he’s constantly showering you with luxurious gifts and sweet praises. he makes sure you know you’re loved and that he would do anything for you – like fingering you on the car ride home! 

satoru’s got two fingers pumping in and out, wet plaps being heard over the sound of the radio every time he pushes his palm back in more roughly than before. he grins at the sight of you, your right arm gripping on the door while your left hand finds purchase on his arm between your legs. you whine and beg, though you’re not sure what for because you’ve already came twice, but you still do. satoru coos as you fall apart on his fingers. “shhh, angel. ‘toru knows what you need, just keep grinding that pretty pussy on my hand”

[owwllly]

they are the same to me (///￣ ￣///)

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

Ass or tits?

Nanami Kento,Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru

Geto Suguru

Gojo Satoru

Nanami Kento

MDNI

I decided to try my hand at a little texty text thing. Lmk if you guys enjoyed :) tis but a lil trial so lmk if you want me to make more and for other characters. Rb’s and comments are greatly appreciated!

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. GOJŌ SATORU┊18+ , consensual video recording + taking pictures, established relationship, bf gojo, unprotected sex + creampie (ofc), dirty talk, canon au. . divider creds: cafekitsune.

You struggle to stay still. With your legs stretched to aching, your flat feet crushing his bare chest and with his thick cock splitting your pussy. It's hard not to want to subtly move at least to release a little tension, when Satoru places the phone in between the two of you and fixes the camera angle talking to himself, complaining about the dim lighting in the room with the curtains closed.

He looks so focused, tongue carving his upper lip back and forth as if performing a task of utmost importance and you find it inevitable not to squeeze around him a little, impatiently.

“Babe, just take the picture,” you tell him desperately at this point, your arousal dripping down your ass cheeks onto the mattress, aching with need to start getting fucked.

Satoru, however, takes his time. He grunts, gasps and moans to himself as he pulls out of you almost completely where only the swollen head is left in your visibly fluttering hole, then proceeds to make a short video where he simulates fucking you; he thrusts his hips in a deep rotation that has your toes curling up and your breath coming in gasps into your lungs.

He plays his thumb over your clit back and forth, talking dirty to the camera before ending the video and tossing the phone to the side of the mattress which bounces gently.

“Okay, I'm ready now,” satoru chuckles releasing tension, taking one of your feet off his chest to bring it to the level of his mouth and bending his back leaves a fleeting, love-filled kiss on your ankle. “I just wanted to have something to remember you by while I'm gone.” Something more than the dozens of pictures he has in his gallery of you, you want to remind him.

Satoru begins to fuck you slow and deep, with the help of his free hand massaging your clit and spreading your juices all over your outer lips.

“I know,” your back arches seeking more of the pleasure. “It'll only be two weeks.”

“That's a long fucking time.” He thrusts his hips in such a way that your skins meet in a loud clap.

For someone whose love language was touch, you knew where that concern was coming from so this time you nod your head. Satoru settles your feet on top of his shoulders and pushes forward bending your body into a new posture, shaping you so that his cock now reaches deeper places inside you.

“Do you feel it twitching?”

“Uh huh,” you reply with your mouth open, gasping his breath sneaking inside.

“I'm going to cum soon, sorry. Recording you made me so hard.”

“We should do it more often then,” you tease, with a hint of seriousness sinking your fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck, tangling in the white strands to manage to pull his hair and bring him closer to your mouth. Satoru groans.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” he gasps sucking on your lower lip, his teeth digging into the soft flesh to then muffle the stinging pain with his warm tongue licking it.

“I know. Me too.”

Satoru licks your mouth half open, gasps the moment your lips meet and grunts after you clench tightly around him letting him know you were going to reach your orgasm soon.

“I'm gonna fucking cum in you,” he murmurs in warning, sweaty forehead resting on yours.

“Fucking cum in me, Satoru.”

[h1nanii]

[ashasdiary]

Lip Plumper + Head = …?

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Synopsis: the one where Gojo discovers lip plumper…on his dick. Who needs tingly lube when you have lip plumper? 

CW: crack, a little fluff, sexual themes, smut - head, insinuations of cunnilingus WC: 1.6k A/N: Gojo come home I have all the brands of lip plumper just for you 😫 

The first time Gojo encountered lip plumper was when you’d kissed his cheek after a date in the infancy of your relationship. 

It had been a quick, little kiss and he’d been confused about the random tingling sensation he could feel on his cheek after he bid you goodbye and headed back home. In the end, he put it down to him being so in love with you that your energy could be felt even when he wasn’t in your presence. 

The second time Gojo encountered lip plumper was when he’d kissed you while you were getting ready. 

Gojo was sat on his bed, with you, toying with your make up products. 

As you’re busy blending your blush and looking into the hand mirror you were holding, he puts your strip lashes on his eyes — without glue — and flutters his eyes for you. “How’d I look?”

“Lovely,” you glance at him and laugh as they fall off onto the bed. 

“I often wonder how I’d look with dark hair and lashes,” he muses and you hum. 

“You’d still be hot, of course, but I love your white hair, it’s distinctive and beautiful,” you tell him honestly, still focused on the mirror you were holding while you’re fixing your brows. His heart warms from your sweet words and he puts your lashes back in their box. 

Leaning over to you, he embraces you and kisses your temple. “Distinctive and beautiful loves you.”

You smile to yourself and lean into his hold, “I love distinctive and beautiful back. Can you pick a gloss for me, please?”

“Hm…this one,” he says, pointing to your Dior Lip Maximiser. He liked the shade. 

“Great choice,” you grin and you pick it up and open it, applying it a couple of times, the tingling sensation being felt immediately. He watches you in wonder. 

“Your lips look so juicy right now,” he marvels at your lips and the how the plumping effect was making them rosy and full. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You laugh softly, “You don’t need to ask.”

He gently cradles your face as he leans in and kisses you longingly. Before he pulls away completely, he presses a few small pecks to your lips and smiles as he sits back. 

You start to put all of your products back in your make up bag, focused on tidying them away, when you hear him gasp, “What the heck? Why is it tingly?”

You look up to him hastily trying to wipe his lips, panicking. You purse your lips not to laugh at his hastiness, “Satoru, it’s the gloss, relax, it’s like that!” 

He’s trying to wipe it but obviously the plumper had already penetrated his lips, so he whines, “This shit hurts!”

“Will you please hold sti—”you start and he feigns being in pain, touching his lips and wincing. “So dramatic, my gosh…” You pour some micellar water for him on a cotton round and he quickly takes it and wipes his lips. You let out a small snort as you watch him tenderly touch his lips. A few minutes later, you’d found him looking in the mirror at his lips, in wonder.

The third time Gojo encounters lip plumper is when you had just gotten home with him from a wonderful dinner date.

He was looking handsome as always in his light blue button down and dark dress pants, a solid leather belt pulling it all together neatly, and his pretty hair tousled in the most perfect way. And by god, you were itching to take him in your mouth and taste him. 

Gojo was feeling the same with you, eager to please you, taste you, have you in all ways, but you were quicker in your advances and 69 wasn’t something you wanted in that moment because you wanted nothing more than to savour him. 

You both toe off your shoes by the door, and you suddenly crowd him against the wall in the hallway, feeling the heat rush through you as you sink to your knees in front of him. 

“I— sweetheart, fuck…—“ he begins but he trails off as he watches you unbuckle his belt, the delicious sound of the metal clinking together only adding to the wetness at your core. You deftly unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down a little. 

You’re greeted with the half hard bulge of him in his boxers and you salivate when you reach past the waistband and pull him out. You gaze up at him with those pretty doe eyes of yours, pumping him in your fist, biting your lip. 

He pushes down his pants and underwear so you have full access to him, and you smile wolfishly up at him as you stroke him some more, pulling a soft groan from his parted lips. 

You lean forward and run your thumb over the tip of him, over his slit, and you wrap your lips around him and suck gently, enjoying the taste of him, as if he were a popsicle. 

“Oh, baby…” he breathes, hand slipping into your hair in an instant. 

You tease the head of him with the tip of your tongue, gentle caresses on it before you’re taking more of the length of him into your mouth. 

He never once takes his eyes off you; it’s intoxicating watching how you’re enveloping him in your mouth. 

Desire, lust, and animalistic need swirls through his body and his blood rushes south to his throbbing cock as you suck on him slowly, taking your time with him. 

You’re in the midst of taking him all the way when he suddenly tenses up and stops you upon feeling the strange sensation of his dick tingling. “Wait, sweetheart— what the f—…baby, did you—“ he’s struggling for words, brows furrowed together as he looks down at your lips and notes the plump shine of them, “are you wearing that lip gloss again?”

You take him out of your mouth and give him a daring smile, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Mmhmm, the one you liked…thought I’d try something new. Think of it as…tingly lube,” you laugh a little and take him into your mouth again, making him hiss and bite his lip. 

After the initial confusion wore off, he quite liked the feeling of it on him. He made a mental note to take you to the Dior store to get some more of the lip product right after he finished making you come on his tongue. 

He leans against the wall, hips bucking slightly, involuntarily, against you as you suck on him more, taking him as deep as you could go. The lip plumper was making him feel things he’d never felt before. The tingling sensation was making precum leak from him and straight onto your waiting tongue where you eagerly lap it up. “Mmmph,” you hum around him, pumping the base of him while you bob your head. You loved having him in your mouth, loved tasting him. 

The taste of him on your tongue adds to your arousal and your other hand snakes down to your core, pushing your dress aside to rub circles over your clothed clit. 

“Takin’ me so good, pretty,” he croons, cupping your jaw, his dick twitching while he watches you touch yourself with his dick in your mouth. You bob your head a few more times and then he takes your face in his hands and holds you in place. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty face, hm?” He asks, eyes hooded and dark. 

You can only let out a half hum, half moan in response, bringing a hand to hold the back of his thigh as he starts to rock his hips against you, fucking your mouth. 

“Ah, fuck—“ he grits out as he thrusts faster, your warm, wet mouth feeling perfect around him. He moans your name when he sees the tears in your eyes as you take his mean thrusts. 

Your eyes screw shut, brows knitted together as you hold onto his thigh and relax your throat. “S-shit— that’s it, sweetheart…” he grunts, low sounds that rumbled through his chest, sounds which were like music to your ears. 

He hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, shuddering as he pulls away and allows you to breathe. Saliva coats your lips and his cock— whatever lip plumper you had on had gone now— and it drips down your chin as you gather your bearings and look up at him gratefully. “Thank you, baby,” you hum, and you take him into your mouth again, sucking him harder, moaning around him knowing the vibrations will make him feel good, lapping at his sensitive tip more with your tongue, while you pump the base of him, teasing his balls a little too. 

His head falls back as he bucks his hips a little, his hand holding onto your hair as he guides you. He pants heavily, cursing under his breath as he gets closer to the edge. You know exactly what he likes and exactly how to please him and right now, you have him like putty in your hands. 

Breathing heavily through your nose, you take him as deep as you can a few more times before he gasps and lets out a pornographic moan of your name, whimpering as he releases into your perfect mouth, “Oh, f-fuck, baby—so good f’me…makin’ me feel so good…nngh…!” He holds you there as the thick ropes of cum shoot out onto your tongue and you let out a soft mewl at the taste of him and the feel of him twitching. 

You gently caress his thighs as he pants for breath, guiding him down from the high. He slumps against the wall and sighs softly, looking down at you with parted lips and hooded eyes, “Get your ass on the bed, I’m gonna eat you out till you can’t take any more. Then, I’m gonna take you to the make up store and buy you some more of that gloss.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[pupkashi]

christmas cuddles

gojo found his place in the universe

a/n: pure fluff partly inspired by this song </3 i miss gojo and i miss seokjin , sue me ! let me know what u all think and sorry if it’s ooc </3

masterlist

wordcount: 588

Maybe it was the Christmas spirit in the air, or the smell of the chocolate chip cookies you’d just taken out of the oven. Maybe it was the sparkle of the chirstmas tree lights on your face as you watched your boyfriend take a bit out of the cookie with hopeful eyes.

Gojo wasn’t sure exactly what it was that made his heart feel full and his body tingle with happiness and warmth. A smile grazed his lips as he finished off the cookie he’d tried.

“this has gotta be your best batch yet angel face” he smiled, kissing your forehead and pulling you into his side.

“really? I added a bit more brown sugar this time maybe that’s what made it better” you smiled proudly, kissing his cheek before resting your head on his collarbone.

Maybe it was the way you were so easy to talk to from the start, or that you had so much in common but also so many differences. Maybe it was the fact that you so readily and wholeheartedly believed that you could take him in a fist fight if you really tried, despite knowing he was a sorcerer.

Gojo wasn’t sure when exactly he knew he was in love, but he knew he was.

He knew when he felt like he had heaven to himself the moment the two of you were alone, giggling over the smallest things and making too many inside jokes to count.

He knew he loved you when you’d woken up at 2 in the morning groaning out a small ‘toru?’ causing him to wake up worried, only for you to ask him if he thought he could fight a kangaroo before you fell back asleep as quickly as you’d woken up.

A small smile had formed on his face by now, leaning down a bit to kiss the top of your head. You were caught by surprise and turned to look at him, a smile on your face as you kissed his nose.

“I love you sweets” his voice was sincere and soft, his eyelashes just barely kissing the tops of his cheeks as he blinked barely noticeable tears out of his eyes. You didn’t mention it, instead shifting in place to be eye level with him, before smiling and wrapping your arms around his neck, only pulling back to pepper his face with light, airy kisses.

“and i love you” you smiled, kissing his soft lips quickly before continuing, “my angel boy.”

The nickname always caused him to shy away a bit, his overly confident and cocky façade disappearing for seconds at a time after the words left your lips. You kissed his pink dusted cheeks before cuddling back into his side.

Gojo knew it wasn’t the holiday spirit that made him jolly, and it wasn’t the AC set to heat that made his ears hot and heart warm. It wasn’t the chocolate chips cookies that made him feel like he was giddy beyond belief.

It was you.

It was you who made him feel complete. Who made him feel like he had a place in this universe, who felt like he was in heaven by your side. You made him forget about everyone else in the world when you were together, brushing away all his worries when you’d run your fingers through his snowy hair, scratching his scalp just right and causing him to melt into your touch.

Gojo satoru knew he was in love with you, and nothing would ever change that fact.

[selarina]

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: college bf!gojo, long-distance, fluff, smut, established relationship, summer, phone sex, nudes, light angst, emotional tension, insecurities, gojo is rich and clingy! Minors DNI

Word Count: 2.6k words

Author's Note: had "Good Looking" by Suki Waterhouse on repeat as i wrote this. can you tell?

Read on AO3

You had thought coming home for the holidays would mean endless days spent with Gojo, caught up in each other with nothing else to do in this sleepy town. Here, time moved differently, like honey trickling from a spoon.

Time spent in college had been different— there were classes, assignments, and the whole college thing — but now, time with him would be luxurious, unhurried, just the two of you, without the world pulling you apart.

But it had been two weeks since you last saw him.

To start with, your mother, in that peculiar way mothers are, still treated you as if high school had just ended yesterday. And then there was the summer ritual – three weeks spent with your grandmother, a tradition that pulled you three states away, leaving Gojo behind in all his boredom. The first week of summer had been his, or at least partially, for even then half of it was lost to the tournament that kept him longer on campus. Now, only a single constrained week and a month remained, 

“So, you’ll be back by then?” he asks, a kind of hope edging in his voice. You almost feel bad.

“I don’t know—” you speak up. “I always spend three weeks. I don’t want to leave earlier.”

“It’s only a week early and it’s my birthday, baby,” he whined, his plea childish, like a boy who doesn’t understand why he can’t have everything he wants.

“I know, but we can always celebrate later,” you offered, knowing full well it wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“Okay,” he says, and you hear it, his voice is thin and worn. It’s not the first time he’s asked you to come back earlier, nor would it be the last. “How’s it going in Midsommar-land anyway? You need to start sending me more pictures or I’ll forget how you look.”

You scoffed, but there was a smile in it. It was the least you could do. “I promise, I will.”

You chat on about things, meandering through familiar territories. And when you finally ran out of things to say, Satoru started asking you about colors, shapes, chickens, and just about anything he could think of to keep the conversation going. 

Four hours had passed, and the weariness in his voice was clear.

“Satoru.”

He hummed in response, his voice soft, almost dreamy.

“Go to bed,” you say gently.

“But I don’t want to,” he mumbled, the resistance fading even as he spoke.

“Yeah,” you said, understanding. “I know. I’ll call you tomorrow anyway.”

“Mmkay,” you hear him yawn through the crackles of the phone. “Don’t forget — pictures.”

You hummed in agreement, ending the call.

You fell back onto the bed, feeling the dull ache in your elbow from holding your head up for so long as you spoke. 

The ceiling, plain and blue, stared back at you as you tried to think of what you would do today. And then it struck you — pictures first.

Your fingers moved quickly, perusing through the squares in your phone’s gallery, searching. But the images were all wrong— food, your grandmother, endless trees, and greens, but not a single one centering you.

You frowned, scrolling back to the last picture of you —a simple mirror selfie. The first week of summer, it dated. You were standing clad in Gojo’s tournament jacket and shorts. The memory brought a smile to your face.

You got up then, moving with purpose — like a mad scientist, you started to dig through your suitcase until you found it. You took your top off, as you pulled the jacket on. The heat was far too horrendous for both items layered on top of one another.

You fell back onto the bed again, the pillow soft beneath your head. You held the camera up — your hair spreading around your white pillow covers, with your face in focus.

You realized you looked tired, dark circles blooming like dark mold under your eyes, but your grandparents would return soon and you wanted to get this over with now and for all. 

Click.

You drew your hands back a bit more, making sure the jacket engulfing you was visible.

Click.

Your eyes caught a glint— a silver shine at your neck. Of course. You reached for it, a delicate gold necklace with a blue jewel at its center, Gojo’s 6-month anniversary gift to you. You remembered the guilt you felt then, for you had given him a silly joke of a book in return.

It now lay over your — his hoodie — sitting against the hoodie, a small, almost hidden detail.

Click.

The phone was warm in your hand, the screen glowing softly in the dim light. One more, you decided. The last one.

You listened, straining for any sounds in the silence—footsteps, voices—but there was nothing, just the quiet of the empty house.

You pulled off the jacket, your movements quick but deliberate, and you lifted the phone above you, adjusting the camera before snapping a shot of you with your bare chest. Bare, but not entirely so — the gold necklace still graced your neck. 

The moment passed as quickly as it came, as you pulled the jacket back on in haste.

You selected the last two photos, sending them in quick succession. The order mattered, after all. 

—

The next morning, you had risen a bit too late in the afternoon. The light of the afternoon sun already slicing harshly through the curtain. The evening yesterday was eventful with the bonfires you helped build, and food you helped grill. It had been lovely. Exhausting. Glorious.

You immediately reach for your phone. Almost giddy with anticipation. 

But when you opened the screen, there was only one message from Satoru.

Satoru <3: Pretty 

The text specifically replied to the first picture you had sent, conveniently leaving the second unacknowledged. Your brows knitted together. 

You tapped his contact and pressed the phone to your ear, the silence of the room amplifying each drawn-out ring.

Once. Twice. Then, the line crackled, and his voice came through, light and smooth.

“Afternoon,” he drawled. “Did you just wake up? It’s late.”

“Pretty?” you ask, agitated. 

“I am? Thank you,” he says, you can almost hear the grin form on his mouth. 

“Satoru,” you reply, it was your turn to whine now.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, feigning innocence. Oh, he was loving this, wasn’t he?

“Just pretty?” you asked, your patience stretched thin but still intact. You felt small, however, in an odd way you couldn’t explain.

“You’ll get more than that,” he said, “if you say you’ll come to my birthday.”

A groan escaped you. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered. “No more pictures for you. Ever again.”

And you only smile when you hear him fumble — words overlapping one another as though he’s finding one that’s appropriate enough to satiate you — to convince you to do both. 

“I just want you here,” he said finally, the simplicity of the statement catching you off guard. “I really do.”

“You’ll see me two days later,” you countered. “You don’t even care about your birthday.”

“I don’t,” he admitted easily. “But everyone else does. You know my mother will make a whole thing out of it — the birthday will be loud. And annoying. I need you with me. Please—”

“You only want me there because it’ll be annoying,” you replied, your frown deepening, though a certain softness crept into your tone later. “It’s only two days. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Yeah, how? you’ll send me more pictures?” he asks, his voice lithe.

“I don’t know,” you teased, the earlier irritation melting away, as it does. “You didn’t seem to like the last one.”

Silence. 

“I liked it,” he finally said, his voice lower now, almost reverent. “I did.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your voice lower, mirroring his. “What did you like about it?”

“I liked you,” he said. “You’re pretty.”

“I am?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Very.”

“Why thank you,” you said, the gratitude in your voice genuine, yet playful.

“I’m looking at it right now,” he continued, his voice taking on a breathy quality as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. “Pretty,” he murmured, devout.

“What’s pretty about it?” you prompted, curious and engaged now.

“You —” he says. “Want you here with me, so bad.”

“You want me there with you?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you?” you ask.

“I’m— I’m in my bed.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah,” he says. 

“Where are you?” he asks then.

“Well, I just woke up,” you replied.

“So, you’re in your bed too,” he surmised.

“Yeah,” you replied, pulling the cover up to your chest. “Hey,” you decided to add. “And guess what?”

“What?” he asks, chewing on his lips. “I’m wearing your hoodie too,” you said, and though he could not see you, you could almost sense his reaction.

"Fuck," he exhaled, the word barely more than a breath. "And, what else?"

“Um—” you start to feel a bit awkward. “Shorts. Black shorts.” Do specifics matter, you start to wonder?

“Bra?”

You glanced down, though you already knew the answer. "No," you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it before you could hide behind something safer. You cleared your throat, speaking up, clearer this time. "No."

“Fuck,” he says again. The mental image of you wearing his sweatshirt without any bra was driving him a bit hazy. 

You rushed to break the tension, "Your turn."

"Huh," he responded as if he had lost track of the conversation, of where this had started.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Well, just sweatpants and a t-shirt,” his voice casual. 

“Take them off.”

He chuckled, the sound soft, surprised. "As my lady pleases."

You heard rustling sounds, and you let your imagination wander to an image of him in his room. You’ve never seen his room, save for some hints in the many pictures he loves to send you, but you haven’t been to his place. Yet. 

Based on what his dorm looks like, he’s such a boy. It doesn’t have a theme, just a mixture of things he’s collected erratically placed in places he could if you get the gist. 

You wonder what color his room is. 

You realize you’ve wandered too far, the tension that first filled the space between you two as he speaks is gone, as you’ve indulged your mind.

"They’re off," he stated, his voice bringing you back, grounding you in the present moment. "Now take yours—wait! Take only your shorts off. I like you in my hoodie."

You smiled at that, and just as you’re about to take it off, your hand lingering at the waistband, ready to comply when—

“Hey, sweetheart,” your grandmother’s voice cut through with the sound of your door hinging open, bringing you to notice that there is a world beyond the two of you.

"Grandma, what—" you stammered, your heart racing as you scrambled, about to cover yourself, though you realized a second later that you didn’t need to. You were still fully clothed, still just talking on the phone. You sighed. "What happened?"

“Oh, nothing, dear but if you’re not too busy… could you help Yuuji with the birds? He hurt his wrist this winter, poor thing, and I think he could use your hand.”

“Of course,” you sighed with a smile, a small and reluctant thing, forcing its way to your lips. “Just let me get dressed, and I’ll be down.”

“Tell that friend of yours you’re always talking to that I said hi,” she added, a warm smile in her voice.

You nodded, almost absently, the phone still pressed to your ear as she left the room, the door closing with a soft click.

“Grandma says hi,” you relayed.

"Tell her your friend says hi back," he responded, his voice carrying an edge now, a note of irritation that was impossible to ignore.

There were too many things left unsaid, too many disappointments lining up on the horizon—birthdays you wouldn’t be there for, a family you hadn’t yet told him about.

You felt the fairness of it, just a bit. There are many things at play right now — you hadn’t told your family about him, you wouldn’t be coming in time for his birthday — too many things disappointing a boy who’s used to having it all. "I’m sorry," you said, the words sincere. "I’ll call you in the evening. Same as yesterday.”

He made a sound that was neither agreement nor refusal, just a noncommittal hum. "Have a nice day," he muttered, and the line went dead, leaving you alone in the silence.

—

It was warm, and windy as you drove back home to see Satoru Gojo. You drove alone, aside from your backseat companions – jars and jars of condiments from Grandma.

His house was even more elaborate than you had first expected – a whopping red and white brick mansion. It was a mansion you thought one would only see in their extravagant imaginations but there it stood, just beyond the long stretch of a well-furnished garden. 

As you pulled up – a man appeared. He was middle-aged, and greying at the temples. His manner was brisk, so formal, as he offered to park your car, and you simply let him. You assumed he was a chauffeur for the estate. 

Standing before the entrance, you feel as though the mansion seemed bigger than when you first laid your eyes on it from afar. Looming. Its sheer size made you a bit dizzy and small as you stared up at it. 

You walked up, your hand reaching to press the small buzzer on the side of the ornate door.

“Oh!” The voice belonged to a woman with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. “You must be here for the young master’s party?”

Young master. Satoru. You nodded, stepping inside.

And then you walked and you walked, and you started to wonder if they should invest in a vehicle for an inside the house. 

Walking through a high hallway, you finally made your way into what seemed to be a living room or just a big room where there were a bunch of people pacing and talking about with drinks and sticks with food in their hands. 

You assumed you finally arrived at the party, as the bright-eyed woman nodded at you as she left you to find your own steps now.

A breeze flew through the room just as you walked in, blowing the curtains in at one end and out like flags as you walked into where the concentration of the room lay.

The only seemingly still object in the room, amidst the whipping of the curtains and the moving guests, was the enormous white couch in the middle. And that’s where you saw him, Satoru, lounging, with a glass perched on the bridge of his nose as he spoke to a boy. The boy you barely glanced at — he was of no consequence just yet. 

You approached, your eyes noticing the lines of his black shirt as it ruffled with the breeze. With each step closer, your courage grew, pushing to make your presence known to him, and the guests that surrounded him. 

A sudden boom echoed through the room, and you turned just in time to see the same bright-eyed woman from earlier closing the long windows with a decisive motion. When you looked back, you noticed Satoru’s gaze had already fixed itself on you.

His brows, you could see, even through the glasses, emerged upward, in surprise.

Without thinking, you reached for his glasses, slipping them off as you spoke. “Hi,” you said. A giggle, a nervous giggle following you.

“You came,” he murmured, almost in a daze. 

“Yeah,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday. What do you make of me?”

[bodega-catto]

[teddybeartoji]

how cute would satoru look while helping you dye your hair:((( he's soooo focused, trying to part your hair perfectly so he can dye it perfectly.

laughing behind your hand, he locks eyes with you through the mirror and your heart stutters just a little. he has the little brush in between his teeth and colorful blotches adorn his skin. his freckles are painted in your new color and you're really matching with him now. he splutters out a what when you keep quiet while just staring at him with hearts in your eyes.

"nothing." you shake your head, dismissing his question with a smile.

he furrows his brows so cutely that you have to surpress the need to tickle him to death. but then his eyes crinkle at the corners and he's grabbing the brush from his lips.

"am i doing good?"

it's a whisper. he's a little scared to fuck it up but he keeps the concern to himself. he's more than a little scared – he's terrified actually. he doesn't even want to imagine the look on your face if he did it wrong. you know he won't though. he's your perfect boy.

"you're doing so, so good."

pink floods his face in an overwhelming wave. he freezes. he looks like a cartoon character, who's just been hit with a cupid's arrow. his heart thumps in his chest, trying to break free from behind his ribs – it longs to be in your hands instead. another laugh tumbles from you, breaking his little love bubble. he watches you tilt your head back through the mirror before letting his eyes fall down to meet your gaze without any restrictions, without any barriers.

you're upside down and you look beautiful. there's hair dye on your forehead and even a smidge on your nose (but he swears that he doesn't know how that got there). he doesn't mind when you rest your head against his lower tummy, staining a few of his happy trail's hair with your color.

matching. matching. matching.

his hands rise to cradle your face and he's so gentle, he's so delicate. the strongest man and his precious beloved. his lips stretch into a loving smile; dimples appear on his flushed cheeks and you reach out to poke at one of them with your finger. skin to skin, you rest against him.

and then he bites your finger, making you squeal in surprise. but he doesn't let you pull away, not even an inch. his hands are steady on your cheeks, holding you to him as he laughs at your big lovesick eyes.

"apologize. right now."

demanding – you look like a cute little kitten in his eyes. "i tell you that you're doing good and this is how you repay me. wow."

he loves it when you roll your eyes at him, he loves it when you fakingly try to bite his head off. he doesn't waste any time in leaning down and pressing his lips to yours in a soft backwards kiss. he can feel the wet hair dye on his skin, he can feel you on his skin. your fingers crawl over the side of his face, over his warm ears and scratch at his prickly undercut. he tastes like bubblegum, almost overbearingly sweet; he tastes like unyielding adoration.

he giggles into your mouth like a schoolboy – you just make him so giddy and so happy and so excited, he can't help it. he pulls away just an inch before pressing another kiss to your lips. and another. and another. he never fails to bring out the most cheerful, the brightest laughs out of you – it's his job after all.

he hovers above your lips and you breathe him in. "am i actually doing okay?"

your eyes are closed and so are his. a sweet moment between lovers – he wants your praise, he wants your blind reassurance and you will give him just that without a second thought.

"you're perfect."

satoru's lips graze against yours one last time before pulling away. he does it just enough to get a good look at you – his sweetheart, his everything. he'd do anything for you and he hopes that you truly know it. he'd let the world burn and he's thinking about doing so while simply dyeing your hair. he's whipped. he's in love.

he presses another kiss on the top of your nose and then another to your forehead, mumbling an i love you inbetween the simple acts of affection. he needs you to feel it, to know it—

— but luckily, the way you're staring up at him tells him that you do and he couldn't be any happier.

[glokyo]

18+ (moderate smut... don't be scared.)

warnings; !meandom, choking, small manhandling, jealousy, possessiveness. synopsis; !exbf Satoru couldn't be more disappointed in you. Why choose anyone else but him?

Satoru knew he wasn't the best person to date. He would never deny he wasn't the best lover when dating you. Or in general. He just couldn't come to terms that he'd be a good boyfriend.

Oh no. he was too insecure for that.

No matter how much you comforted him, reassured him; he'd turn around and doubt himself all over again. Claiming he'd never love you good, how he's such a bad boyfriend, how he can never do anything right.

It got so bad to the point, he had to leave you. He didn't want to be a burden to you, of course not. And god, did it break your sweet little heart. Satoru left you in shambles; you doubted your own ability to love. How could he sabotage the relationship this way? Why couldn't he just believe you?

Satoru tried to let go, he tried and it just got harder and harder to move on. So hard to move on when you took him the best, clenching your plump walls around his fat cock. Fucked him the best.

5 months after your breakup, he learns you're going on a date with another man. no, no, no. You're so dumb, so silly.

Satoru loves you soso much, he always has. Why would you ever need anyone else?

You only need him.

It's a total shame, really. That beautiful dress you took so long to come up with, your lovely hair that equally took you so long. Your dress, now scattered on the floor, your hair a complete mess; tousled and wild, currently being tugged on.

Satoru pulled your head towards his, his large calloused hand gripped your hair and his spare wrapping around your pretty neck firmly. Fat cock pumping in your fat sticky pussy. You're against the wall in the hallway, couldn't even make it out the door before he caught you, baiting you in with sweet pleads.

He knits his eyebrows together, blue eyes staring right into yours with raging intensity, speaking with his beautiful deep voice. The same voice that got you here in the first place.

"Y'think y'can move on f'me like that? Hm?" He grunts, punctuating his anger with a thrust, grunting. Satoru tightens the grip in your hair, making you wince. He missed you, so much. He loves you so much and the simple thought of a fucking disgusting fuck touching his woman put rage in his body.

You belonged to him, body and soul. And you should know that. "He could never fuck y'like this. Could never make y'cum like I do." He whispers, leaning down to nibble at your earlobe. "Mine. You're all fucking mine. Say it." He squeezes your hips, pushing your ass closer against him, thrusting deep. You moan, clawing at the paint. "Say you're all mine..." He repeats.

No one else deserved the feeling of enjoying your puffy pussy around their dick. No one else deserved the angelic noises coming out your mouth. No one.

"C'mon, Toru'. Ngh- I'm yours- ah! I am!" You pull your lip in, biting on it. He pulls your head back, exposing your neck to his gaze. He was hungry, mad, primal.

Satoru slows down momentarily, giving you deep, slow strokes. The strokes that drove you insane no matter what. "Good girl... such a good girl, my baby... Did you miss me?" He mumbles in between kisses on your soft flesh, leaning forward slightly to run his tongue against your throat.

"Oh my god..." You moan, pressing your ass back against his twitching cock, hand moving back to grip his sweaty white hair.

"Mmmfuck, Did you miss having m'cock in y'like this? Fuckin this tight little pussy... y'feel s' good, baby.." He whispered, moving your hand from his hair, intertwining your fingers. "Yes- ah! Yes, Toru'! yesyesyes!! Hngh!!"

You had him wrapped around your finger and that was all you needed.

note; hiiiiii!!!!!! gimme dat hundred for the best possessive man out here

[pluto-00]

DRUNK OFF YOU.

nsfw(16+), black fem reader, eating out, afab reader, praising, degrading(not directed to reader), whining/begging, mentions of spit, dom reader(ish), sub/switch male, and after-care.

pet names; my love & baby.

pussy drunk men! who are kind of pathetic when it comes to you. You always have him needy when your away, poor baby can’t even get off properly when you aren’t there.

pussy drunk men! who’d want nothing more than to please you when you finally come home.

“please my love, let me have a taste, i’ll promise to take good care of you t’nite.”

pussy drunk men! who’d at the drop of a hat would get on they’re knees if you’re stressed and needed some relief.

pussy drunk men! who’d take one lap of it, and start moaning and rutting into the the mattress like a little bitch. Causing you in response to laugh, and push his head away from your heat.

“I let you get a taste, and you start acting like a complete whore.”

“M’sorry baby, i’m g’nna calm down..I promise.”

pussy drunk men! who’d groan as your lower half started to get wetter. His muffled sounds collidin against your sopping cunt.

“Fuckk, you’re getting everywhere.”

pussy drunk men! who enjoys when your thighs cramp around his face, priding himself on your physical reactions alone. The way you tug on his hair, as your back arches are some of his favorite things he likes to see.

pussy drunk men! who are very skilled with their mouth alone, can have you seeing stars for hours if you wanted.

pussy drunk men! who likes maintaining eye contact the entire time when he’s going down on you, he just loves watching you come undone.

“I wish you could see how you gorgeous you look right now, mhm.”

pussy drunk men! who can go on for hours, he could have an aching dick in his boxers and yet still drink you up like a man in the desert who found a well.

pussy drunk men! who’s absolutely a mess when its comes to you, your slick all over his lips, and his spit dripping down your inner thighs

pussy drunk men! who’s probably has you in tears or close to it. A soft smile plays on his lips, as you buck your hips up into his mouth, a clear sign you need more.

pussy drunk men! who’s made you cum probably twice already just by his tongue alone, and is now pushing for another. This is by pure enjoyment alone, you're over-stimulated, and not once has he stopped.

pussy drunk men! who praises you relentlessly, he’s just so thankful that you let him go on for this long. His thumb runs over your puffy clit, trying to get another climax out of you with a slight grin on his face.

“You’re being so good for me, my love. thank you.”

pussy drunk men! who when they are done, kiss you on the lips, and go put on a warm bath as another thank you.

———

thinking of..! leon s kennedy, geto suguru, satoru gojo, trafalgar law, and spencer reid.